


A star knows best

by romxnogersav



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Children, Dad! Bucky Barnes, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romxnogersav/pseuds/romxnogersav
Summary: When Bucky’s late to pick his daughter up from kindergarten, he has to find a way to make it up to both his little star, and her very beautiful teacher.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	A star knows best

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Ooff, this is the first thing I've been able to finish in over a month, and I have some mixed feelings about it. Also, please be gentle, it's kind of a mess.
> 
> This is a challenge entry for a celebration I took part in on Tumblr. My trope was "Single Parent AU".
> 
> Enjoy, hah!💫

“Daddy? Daddy, wakey!” a soft, energetic voice whispered. A finger poked his cheek, and a small nose buried itself into the crook of his neck.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered, the corners of his lips twitching up and into a gentle, beaming smile. Another poke at his cheek followed, and a giggle spilled from the little girl’s lips. She blew a raspberry into his neck. A carefree laugh erupted from deep within his chest. It’s silly, yet adorable the kind of effect this little act had on him. The simple act, the way his little princess woke him up most mornings. The small fingers and melodious giggles, paired with the wet kisses against his neck. It made his heart flutter into a sweet melody.

“Daddy, come on,” she whined this time. Bucky’s eyes fell open, a content smile on his face. He reached for his daughter, enveloping her in his big arms, tickling her sides. This prompted a fit of soft laughs and little short, music-like giggles to fall from the child’s lips.

He prepped her little face with kisses. Her cheeks, forehead, and nose, wherever his lips could reach. He was sure the stubble that has grown across his jaw added to the ticklish feeling his little star feels. He also knew she loved it.

Her small hands reached for him, tapping each of his cheeks in an attempt to stop her dad’s attack. He laughed at that, eyes gleaming in the morning light, as they try to focus on the child snuggled against him. Bucky let her be, watching her little chest expand with each breath she took. The smile on her face didn’t weaver for a second.

“Morning, princess,” he finally greeted her, kissing the side of her head. Perked up over his body, the child crossed her hands over his chest and laid her head on them. As livid eyes stared back at him, his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile.

His daughter was a spitting image of him, a miniature version. Starting with the eyes, they are the same shade as his. There’s a glint of mischief, Bucky himself has, that was now embedded into his little girl as well. The hair, chestnut brown, and a little wavy at the ends. The little pout and puppy face even, as well as her stubbornness.

The only thing that wasn’t Bucky was her nose. That one was all her mother’s.

Her babbling personality, was too, one that mirrors James’. Sweet and charming, with a bit of feisty nature. Atria Winifred Barnes was her father’s daughter.

“Morning, daddy,” she squealed, flushing her dad a toothy smile. He sat up, bringing her up and into his lap, while his back rested against the headboard.

“What’s got you up so early, baby?” he questioned. He looked at the little bedside table clock that read six-thirty in the morning.

The little girl crooked her head to the side and looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Early? No, I have school and you have work, silly. We gotta get up,” Atria reminded him with a soft laugh. It’s the same laugh that warms his heart every time he hears it. He pretended to think about it, then, his eyes lit up in realization, and he looks at the small brunette in his lap.

“Ah, you are right! We better get up then,” he mused, swinging his legs off of the bed. Atria made grabby hands at him, the desire to help in her father’s arms evident in her little blue eyes. Who’s he to refuse? She had him wrapped around her little finger.

With a smile, he took her in his arm and sat her against his hip. He walked out of his bedroom, and down the stairs. Small, light feet patted against the wooden floor behind him. Soon, Alpine, their cat, sneaked between his legs, and lead the way downstairs.

When they reach the modern kitchen, Bucky sat his daughter on the counter and turned to rum into the fridge.

“What do you want for breakfast, princess?”

“Waffles?” Atria asked, clapping her hands in front of her. Bucky smiled with a slight shake of his head and reached into the fridge to pull the ingredients.

“Waffles it is,” he confirmed, and kissed Atria’s head, “You are going to help daddy, won’t you?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

It’s a normal morning in the Barnes’ household. Bucky working on breakfast, while the child helped him crack eggs into a bowl, and pour a bit of milk in. The soundtrack of a Disney movie filled the otherwise quiet kitchen. This morning it’s “The Little Mermaid”, and Atria wasn’t shy as she sang along. And neither was Bucky. They did make a great duet, father and daughter.

Being a single parent hadn’t crossed his mind, not until it happened. It was unexpected, as was the news of becoming a dad.

When he first learned he was going to be a dad, he was ecstatic. He’d grown in a big family, and he’d always known he wanted to have kids. He was as supportive as they come, not only in the beginning but throughout the pregnancy as well. He’d been careful and attentive but never suffocating.

He might have cried a little too much. Especially when he learned that he, and his then significant other, would be having a daughter. And a lot, when she was finally welcomed into the world, three and a half years ago.

Everything was doing alright that first couple of months. Or maybe James had just been fooling himself into thinking it had. He’d been so wrapped up into the little bundle of joy that Atria was, that he hadn’t seen the signs. If there had been any, to begin with.

He hadn’t seen anything until it was a little too late for anything to be done. When things had taken an unexpected turn, Bucky had been left to take care of a seven months old baby all by himself.

For a long time, he had blamed himself, because there was no one else there to blame. He would never, in a million years blame his daughter, for something that was well beyond her control. If he’d looked deeper, if he’d looked at all, his princess would still have a mother by her side.

Those first few weeks had been the hardest. Sleepless nights and tears shed by both him and Atria as they tried to get used to being on their own. As they tried to get accustomed to a life without someone they both loved.

It was a good thing that Bucky wasn’t alone. One of the most crucial parts at the beginning had been his support system. Something, he would be forever grateful for.

Friends and family had stood right beside him, as he got used to being the only parent to love and cherish his baby. All the while she grew up to a small, charming princess.

His best friend, Steve, had been one of the people that helped the most. He was always there when Bucky needed help or someone to talk to. He’d lost count of how many times he’d woken Steve up in the middle of the night. Or how many times his eyes had glossed over as they talked when he couldn’t keep things in anymore. When the tears had fallen quickly afterward.

Although not a vulnerable person at heart, James couldn’t always keep the pain and heartache he felt. That was especially true when it came to the people he loved when it came to his child.

Almost three years later, he could proudly state, that he was doing a pretty good job at raising Atria on his own. And with the help of his family and friends when needed.

After they finished with breakfast, Bucky helped Atria wash up, then sent her to get dressed. He’d usually help her, but recently, she had started getting dressed on her own, and he let her. She paired things in a way, that made them look adorable.

He put on his clothes for the day. Blue suit jacket and pants, paired with a plain white t-shirt and white lace-up sneakers. Although a businessman, he preferred to dress in a more elegant casual style. Steve was the one with more of a full suit style.

Once dressed and ready to go, he walked down the hallway and towards Atria’s room. He found her ready, sitting on her bed, and playing with Alpine. She’d dressed adorably. Baby pink sweater, blue pants, and her sparkly pink sneakers. Her Auntie Nat had taught her well when it came to pairing colors.

They left the house at exactly seven-thirty.

* * *

The playground was vacant, almost empty save for one kid, Atria Barnes.

It’s six forty-five, and all the other kids had been picked up already. The last one to go had been a girl named Antonia, picked up by her aunt twenty minutes ago.

You watched from a few feet distance, where the toddler sat by herself on a swing. She gazed up at the sky, watching the sun setting down.

You exhaled. The kindergarten closes at seven, and there were fifteen minutes left.

You checked your phone, in case you’ve missed a call from James. The only thing you found were messages popping up on your screen. It’s Daisy’s, one of your closest friends’ way of letting you know she’s mad at you. You’d agreed to go with her to a concert tonight. Seeing as Atria was still under your care though, you weren’t sure you’d make it.

You knew you should give James a call already, but you decided to give him a few more minutes. He’s rarely late, ever the punctual one, he showed up at six on the dot almost every day. The rare occasions when he was late, it was always no more than fifteen minutes due to traffic. He also always called to let you know.

Today though didn’t seem to be one of those rare occasions. He’s late with almost an hour, and he never called to let you know when he’d be there to pick his little girl. On top of that, Daisy was threatening to tear the tickets apart if you didn’t text her back or call her soon.

Your biggest concern though was the little girl who’s gaze was cast downward. Her little hand reached up occasionally, probably to wipe at the tears, you had a feeling were making their way down her cheeks.

You breathed out, pocketing your phone and making your way towards the swings. When you reached her, you crotched down to her level, in an attempt to see her eyes.

“Hi, Atria,” you waited for her to acknowledge you. When you heard her sniffle and wipe at her nose though, you knew it wouldn’t happen. You couldn’t fault her though. She’s smart enough to know that her dad was late to pick her up, even without being the only kid still there. You laid a hand on her knee, your thumb brushing against the bone, “How about we get inside, and call your dad? What do you think?” you asked her gently, brushing the hair out of her face. There were indeed small droplets on her cheeks, and her little eyes were glassed over.

“Okay,” she sniffled again, and she went to move off the swing. You took her in your arms, and her little hands wrapped around your neck. You wiped at her tears because although just a teacher, your heart ached whenever a child cried. It didn’t suit their colorful nature, and it especially didn’t suit Atria’s.

She laid her head on your shoulder, and you walked around the building to get inside.

You heard the rave of an engine, and the screeching of tires, which quickly got your attention. You saw a car, James’ car you are sure, pull into a stop before he jumped out of the car and broke into a run when he saw you.

The closer he got, the clearer you were able to see him. You saw his face, scrunched up in disappointment, in himself, you were sure. His body language was off too. The ever calm demeanor he had was gone, exchanged for one of worry. His hair was tousled as if he had run his hands through it one too many times. The suit jacket was gone too.

“Atria, look who’s here,” you whispered to her when James’ was mere meters away. The little girl lifted her head from your shoulder and met her dad’s eyes. She sniffled again before a little smile broke across her face.

“Daddy”

James stopped before you and looked at you with soft eyes as you passed Atria to him.

“Hey, baby. I’m so sorry I’m late. I didn’t mean to leave you here for so long, sweetheart,” he told her in a soft voice. You saw his own eyes had gotten a bit glassed over.

It was probably hard on him when something like that happened. As a single dad, he’s the only parent his daughter could rely on. It’s evident, in his eyes especially, that he felt like he’s letting her down by being late.

You watched the little girl bury her face into her father’s shoulder. When Atria moved to look at him, he wiped at her still wet cheeks and kissed her forehead. She smiled at him, at last, and kissed his cheek.

“I owe you an apology too,” James said after he took a deep breath, and his eyes locked on yours.

“It’s not necessary,” you didn’t want him to feel like he needed to. You didn’t want him feeling guilty at your expense. He already felt guilty enough for being late to pick his daughter, you didn’t want to add to it.

“Yes, it is. I’m sorry, for keeping you. I’m sure you had plans.” When you didn’t answer immediately, you saw James’ eyes widen slightly, “You had plans, didn’t you? I am so, so sorry for ruining your night,” you could tell he felt guilty when he cast his eyes downward.

“It’s quite alright. My plans aren’t going anywhere.”

“I still feel bad though,” you knew he did. People said you could learn a lot by looking at someone’s eyes. That seemed to be particularly true for James, “Let me make it up to you?” there’s hope in the blue of his eyes.

You looked at him, shaking your head in disagreement, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you watched as Atria whispered something into his ear, “How about dinner? Tomorrow, our place?” he suggested, and when you looked at him and Atria, it’s hard to say no.

Atria was one of your favorite pupils. Even though you knew you shouldn’t play favorites, and adore all your students, you couldn’t help it. There was something so delightful about Atria. She’s the sweetest kid you’ve had the pleasure of teaching. She had such a vibrant personality, and she’s also sensitive and intelligent.

Her father? There was no point in lying. James was a handsome man. He’s down to Earth, charming and amiable. He’s one of the few single dads in the class, and he was also great at it. He showed up for every seasonal celebration, always there to support his daughter.

He was also extremely polite, and as you’d come to know, funny too. Every morning he’d greet you, and all the other teachers with a warm “Good morning” and a sweet smile.

He’d converse and share jokes with parents and teachers, all the same, always making them laugh.

You were in awe by how gentle this man was, given his physique and profession. The few businessmen you’ve met have been cocky, some of them - notorious, and never as polite as James was.

Maybe that’s one of the few reasons why you liked him. Aside from his charming and kind personality, and the great dad nature that he possessed you found him engrossing. Although it was inappropriate, you’ve found yourself interested in James. Nothing beyond wanting to get to know him on another level, outside of your job, and his role as a father.

You tossed around the idea of accepting James’ offer in your head, wondering how improper it would be of you to agree. When your eyes trait from Atria’s gleaming ones, to James’ livid, optimistic ones, you could feel your answer on the tip of your tongue.

“Okay, dinner it is.”

A broad smile found its’ way onto his face, and Atria clapped her hands together in victory. You couldn’t help the twitching in your lips, and they too, curved into a smile.

* * *

If Bucky was honest with himself, he might have rushed when he invited you to dinner at his house. He wanted to have dinner with you, there was no question there. He had wanted to ask you out, on a date for some time.

Ever since he’d met you last year he’d found you endearing. You were an absolute delight when it came to conveying with someone. You had a very vivid nature, and you radiated kindness and realness, Bucky hadn’t seen in a woman in a long time.

Not since, well, not since Atria’s mom.

If you asked him, it was a rare occurrence for him to meet someone like you. Which, might also be the reason why he had been interested in you for a while. There was always something that prevented him from asking for an opportunity to get to know you more.

Realistically speaking, it would be a little odd to ask you out, given the nature of your acquaintanceship. Bucky though, couldn’t help but wish to.

He’d wanted to sit down and ask you question after question if you let him get to know you. He wanted to know what you liked, and what you weren’t a fan of. Your favorite flowers, your favorite ice-cream flavor.

Even Steve had suggested, pushed him a bit to ask you out after Bucky shared how fascinated he was by you.

He’d played around with the idea in his head, wondering when he’d grow the balls to finally do it. Well, turned out that moment came earlier than he intended it to.

When he had asked you to make it up to you through dinner, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been clouded by guilt for leaving Atria in your care for an extra hour, almost ruining your plans. By the soft look in your eyes when he’d stopped before you with his eyes glassed over by tears. Only after you had agreed, had his mind caught up with the words that had left his mouth.

Honestly, though? He didn’t regret asking you to dinner. What he regretted though, was that he didn’t prepare mentally.

It’s a good thing his mother had blessed him with her excellent cooking skills. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been prepared at all.

“Daddy?” Atria’s soft voice pulled him back into reality. He averted his gaze upward, and onto her face, settling down the knife he’s holding. Atria was perked up on the kitchen island next to him, picking the parsley leaves off of the stem.

“What is it, princess?”

“Do you like Miss Y/N?” He’s taken aback, even though he knew he shouldn’t be. Atria was a smart, curious toddler. It’s normal for her to ask him something such as this. He looked at her with a smile.

“And what about you? Do you like Miss Y/N?”

She laughed, the sound melodious yet gentle, “You first, silly.”

He didn’t have to even think about his answer, because it sat on the tip of his tongue, and has sat there for a long time. Steve had asked him the same question some weeks back, and even then, he’d said the same.

“I do, baby. I do,” he smiled again, picking up the knife.

“Me too.” she finally answered.

They worked in relative silence after that, another Disney movie soundtrack playing in the background. Occasionally, Atria sang as Bucky smiled at his daughter from underneath his eyelashes.

It was exactly seven o'clock when the doorbell rang. Atria gasped.

“She’s here!” she exclaimed and jumped from the island. She skipped towards the door in her cute, little yellow apron covered in bees. Bucky was fast to wash his hands before he rushed after her. By the time he reached the door through, Atria had already opened it and was talking to you a mile an hour.

His eyes locked on you, as he took small as if cautious steps towards the front door. You looked beautiful, to simply put it. You’ve changed because instead of the usual casual look you sported around your pupils, you looked a tad elegant now. Your hair, too, was styled in a different way. There were different shades of color on your cheeks and eyes, as well as your lips. They were soft, but still able to define your features.

You were smiling as you talked to Atria, a bottle of wine in your hand. He shook his head in amusement. Always the polite one. You wouldn’t dare show up empty-handed.

When Bucky reached the door, you lifted your gaze from Atria’s smaller frame to his, your eyes soft. You smiled at him, and he could swear his heart fluttered at the act.

“Hello, James,” you greeted him.

He cleared his throat, trying to swallow past the sudden dryness. With a smile of his own, he greeted you back. He welcomed you into the house, and when he saw your eyes roaming over his figure, his eyes widened.

He’s still clad in his baby blue suit pants and white t-shirt and over those sat a red apron that read “kiss the soldier”. A gag gift from Sam Wilson, one of his to date best friends, and army buddy.

You and Atria walked towards the kitchen, hand in hand, as Bucky trailed behind you, with a gentle smile on his face. When you walked in, Bucky saw your eyes widen a fraction.

The white and gray design of the kitchen had been Natasha’s idea. Bucky had wanted something light, but not the standard white. The gray gave a whole other look to the otherwise boring white.

He watched you look around for a little before he cleared his throat.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked you, moving to the other side of the counter. Your head whips around as if startled, and you shook your head at yourself.

“I brought wine, but water’s fine for now,” you answered, handing him the bottle you still held. Then, you added, “I’m sorry, for staring. It’s just, you have a beautiful home, James,” you said, a tender smile on your face.

Your eyes trailed to the counter, where a stack of vegetables and spices, amongst other things sit. You pointed with your brow furrowed, seeing that James had been in the middle of cooking dinner.

“Do you need some help?”

He shook his head, but Atria was quick to cut in.

“Yes, please!” she made grabby hands at James, and with a laugh, he picked her up and sat her onto the counter again. Your eyes scrunched up in amusement. After washing your hands, you stood next to James, ready to help him finish with cooking the dinner.

You moved around the kitchen, with lightness, while Atria sat, asking questions. While you cut the vegetables, James prepared the other part of the dinner.

“Where did you learn how to cook?” You asked him after a while. He looked at you, his head crooked to the side, his eyes beaming.

“My mom. She’s great at it. I guess I picked it up from her,” there was a small glint in his blues, and a soft tone to his voice, both affectionate. It’s a beautiful look on him.

You passed the time, talking about this and that. You were laughing, even singing along with Atria to some of her favorite tunes. It was pleasant, different from anything both you and James were used to doing in the evenings.

You couldn’t help the smile that adored your face when you saw Atria helping James with dessert. Mixing ingredients, trying not to spill anything outside of the bowl. The soft look on James’ face when she stuck her finger in, sucking it into her mouth afterward. The soft laugh and the little, “we don’t do that, princess” that followed. It was adorable.

You spent the good part of an hour, finishing dinner and dessert before you finally sat at the table. Dinner was filled with pleasant talk and easy giggles. Once again, Atria talked a mile an hour, asking you questions, sharing her interests.

You were so engrossed in the story she was sharing, you didn’t see the glimmer in James’ eyes as he watched you conversed with his daughter.

* * *

When Atria started to yawn, James decided she had enough for the day. He went upstairs and helped her get ready for bed. You bid her goodnight with a hug and waited in the living room for James to put his daughter to bed.

Their home was beautiful, bright, and homey. There were little bits and pieces scattered around, showing the livelihood of the home. A few of Atria’s toys, some things you presumed are James’.

There were paintings and pictures on the walls too. A few framed photos sat on the fireplace, some on the shelves.

As you walked, eyes trailing from photo to photo, it was easy to recognize James on a lot of them. There was one, you assume taken years ago, since James looks younger. He’s laughing, eyes scrunched up, white teeth showing. Next to him, with a hand on his shoulder was a blond man, a tad taller. He’s smiling brightly. Both of them are dressed in green, an army uniform.

Before your eyes could trail to another photo close by, you were startled by James’ voice.

“That photo was taken almost nine years ago,” although his voice was soft, you couldn’t help but jump a bit. You turned around to face him, and he shook his head with a chuckle, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, again.”

“It’s fine, really,” you assured him when he moved closer.

“That’s Steve, my best friend since childhood,” he told you, eying the picture.

“He’s cute.”

His laugh bloomed around, filling your ears and the quiet living room. You couldn’t help the amused look that seeped into your features.

“He’s a punk. Always had to pull him out of fights,” there was fondness in his voice, as well as a small fond smile on his face.

He saw your eyes trail to a photo close by, the same one you were eyeing before he startled you.

It’s a photo of three, you realized when you looked closer. There’s James, and in his arms is a small, pink bundle. Atria, if you had to guess. Next to him, with a hand on his shoulder is a redhead. Both their eyes are locked on the small child in James’ arms, with adoration written on both their faces.

His posture changed, his shoulder tensing a little. He exhaled, sticking his hands into his pockets.

“That’s Dot,” he started, eyes cast downward before he exhaled again and finally looked at you, “Atria’s mom.”

You should have known; you should have everted your gaze. In some ways, maybe you did. It was as if curiosity got the better of you. He looked happy on that photo, at peace and ease. And Dot? She was beautiful, with her eyes almost sparkling in the sunlight beaming down on them.

They truly looked like a family, happy, united, like a family should be.

Although you couldn’t help but ask yourself what might have gone wrong, you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t voice your curiosity. Whatever happened, it seemed to have left a great weight and impact on James. The last thing you wished to do, was poke into old wounds.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have – ” he cut you off before you could continue.

“It’s alright. You didn’t know. Plus, it was a long time ago,” if he was honest, it wasn’t that long ago. At least it didn’t feel like it was. He could lie to you all he wanted, but he couldn’t lie to himself.

You could see the distant look in his eyes when he looked at you, and you knew there was more to it. More than “It was a long time ago”. You stayed mum though. There was pain there, under the surface. Even though he tried to mask it, play like everything was alright, it was there.

“How about I help you clean up before I go? And I don’t take no for an answer,” you suggested, trying to pry his thought away from the place they were visiting. You smiled at him, and it seemed to work. You both made your way towards the kitchen and got to work on cleaning the table and washing the dishes.

You worked in silence for a few minutes. The water slid against the soapy dishes in James’ hands and down the drain. Your fingers touched his, every time he handed you something so you could dry it.

“Have you – ” James broke the silence suddenly. You angled your head to look at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was locked on the ceramic dishes, “Have you ever felt like you aren’t doing a very good job at something?” his voice was light, albeit shaky.

You stared at his side profile, gnawing at your lower lip in worry. You sat the towel down when you saw his washing the same plate for the second time.

“Does this, sudden doubt has anything to do with yesterday?” You asked, your voice leveled. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach as if you already knew the answer to your question.

“I just…, I can’t help but feel like what I’m doing isn’t enough,” he sat the plate down, finally, and turned off the water. His hands gripped onto the counter, as he exhaled a shaky breath, “I try my best. I try to give her enough love to make up for the fact that Dot’s not here, that she left. Sometimes though, it doesn’t feel like what I’m doing is enough,” he breathed out, his grip on the counter loosening.

You didn’t even think before the words were rolling off the tip of your tongue. Your hand reached out, settling on his back.

“I think you are doing more than enough, James. That little girl, she adores you. There isn’t a day that goes by, where she doesn’t remind everyone how much she loves you. She draws, drawing after drawing of you two, as a family. As well as a variety of other things, so she could show you how much she loves you,” He finally turned towards you. You saw once again, James’ blue eyes glassed over with unleashed tears, “Take my word for it. You are doing just fine. Raising and loving rush a radiant little girl,” you pat him on the back, and you saw his lips twitch up. A smile followed, soft and thankful, and he swiped under his eyes.

“Thank you,” it slipped easily because it was the truth. Bucky was thankful, for your presence and your reassuring words. It happened, every once in a while, he’d, crash. His emotions would play games on him, his doubt would bubble into the surface. He’d believe, he was doing something the wrong way, although that wasn’t true.

It made him doubt his ability in raising his daughter. It would make him feel like he wasn’t doing enough when it came to his bright star.

He cleared his throat, banishing all those doubts, and then he finally spoke up.

“What made you want to work with kids?” he decided to change the subject, in hopes to bring some light into the conversation. It was getting late, and he knew you were going to be leaving soon, so he didn’t want the night to end on a sad note.

What James didn’t know though, was that there was so much more there than the otherwise simple, “I love toddlers”. Even though it was a touchy subject on your part, you found yourself wanting to be truthful with him. He laid his heart out for you to see, albeit not the whole, you could do as much.

“When I was in high school, I used to babysit a little boy down the street. He was around Atria’s age at the time. One day, there was a car accident, and that little boy became an orphan. He had no relatives, no one to take him in, and they wanted to put into foster care,” you swallowed down.

James watched you tenderly, a look of curiosity on his face. He was waiting for you to continue talking, and that’s what you did.

“I’d watched him grow up until that point, and I knew I didn’t want to see him go. Be with people he didn’t know, in a place that he wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t long, before my parents and I were sitting at home, and I was begging them to adopt him. Turns out, I didn’t have to, because as much as I didn’t want him gone, they didn’t too,” you paused again, exhaling. You tried to keep the memories and emotions at bay because you knew that Peter wouldn’t want you to shed tears on his account.

You looked at James with a soft smile, one he returned.

“Today, Peter is a bright and brilliant sixteen years old, that never lets me beat him at Scrabble. That’s alright though because he’s happy, and that’s all that matters to me,” and it was simple as that. All you’ve wanted since your parents adopted him, was for him to be happy.

You’ve spent every moment you could, to make sure that happened. All throughout kindergarten, when he was trying to get used to a life without his parents. Throughout school, and high school, when his little genius came to the surface. You’d continue doing so, for as long as he would let you.

You didn’t even realize when he moved closer. When you looked back up at him, he was mere inches away from you. Your chest was almost touching his, his breath hot, and fanning your face.

His hand moved up, thumb swiping against your cheek where a lone tear was sliding down. Your feelings were bubbling, and your emotions high. Your memories brought you back to those days, the early days with Peter at your house. The tears that he shed every night when he missed his parents.

“I think that’s a beautiful story,” he mumbled in a gentle voice. His breath mingled with yours from the closeness between you. It was strange, being so close to him, a bit overwhelming, but not wrong. You’d expected it to feel wrong, but it didn’t. Not with the way he’s looking at you, his blues shining with something, you couldn’t quite wrap your finger around. Desire? Want? You weren’t sure.

“You really think so?” your voice was as quiet as his was. You caught the way James’ eyes slid down to your lips, and back up again for a fraction of a second.

He wanted to kiss you, and he had a feeling you wanted that too if the way you run your tongue over your bottom lip was any sign

“I do,” you were looking at him, waiting to see what he was going to do. Next thing you knew; his lips were on yours. You didn’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

His lips were warm, plump, yet a little chapped against yours. They moved against yours with a gentleness you knew he possessed, long before he even kissed you. His hand held onto your hip with a barely-there touch. It was burning, the sensation of his skin on you, and the way he was touching you.

He nipped at your lower lip, making the skin sting before he ran his tongue against the sensitive flesh. Sucking it into his mouth with vigor, a whine slipped from the back of your throat at the feeling. It was both overwhelming and intoxicating.

Bucky used that to his advantage, his tongue sliding into your mouth, dancing with yours. He explored your mouth greedily, caressing the inside of your mouth.

It was over too soon when his tongue slipped out of your mouth, and he moved a few inches back. You tried to catch your breath, eyes screwed shut as you breathed in and out.

When you found the courage to finally open your eyes, James’ blues were staring right at you. His eyes were darkened, blow wide.

“Not what I expected when I agreed to have dinner with you,” you breathed out in a joking matter.

“I’m full of surprises, doll,” he declared, with a little chuckle and a grin that made your heart flutter. You laughed, your eyes scrunching up a little.

“So it seems,” You mused, before James leaned down, and connected your lips once more.

Little did either of you know, Atria was far from asleep. The little girl sat at a far enough distance, with a great view of you and James, but hidden from your wondering eyes. In her lap was Alpine, whom she quietly talked to, as she watched you and James kiss and laugh.

“Told you, Alpine, they like each other.” the little star knew best.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [romaxnogersav](https://romaxnogersav.tumblr.com/)


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